


Fated

by Zoa



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece, Alternate Universe - Historical, Ancient Greece, Angst with a Happy Ending, Babies, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fate & Destiny, Happily Ever After, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, I did look up some things but not everything, Inaccurate Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Kylo/Ben is a Spartan, Pregnancy, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Rey's a slave, Reylo babies, Reylo that's not hades and persephone, Sexual Content, Slave Trade, Slavery, Spartans, This is a lot of Tags, ancient greek au, i'm being very careful with tagging, probably, secret romance, this isn't a slave/master thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26060557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoa/pseuds/Zoa
Summary: Aethra and Kyrillos, two souls connected by a deeper love than either imagined. But how will Fate serve them, when they are torn from each other?
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Kylo Ren
Comments: 13
Kudos: 89





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE DON'T HATE ME I KNOW I HAVE WIPS BUT I COULDN'T STOP THIS FROM HAPPENING
> 
> I have been playing Assassin's Creed: Odyssey and got inspired by the ancient Greek world. Please enjoy the porn and angst with a happy ending.

The moon shimmered over the sea and trailed after the girl’s fingers as she skimmed them over the marble facade of Aphrodite’s temple. Her bare feet were silent on the cool stone as she made her way to the back of the temple. The linen folds of her blue _peplos_ joined the trees in their dance to the warm breeze flowing from the water and she hummed a lullaby to herself, one from the depths of her memory. One paired with the image of eyes which matched her own and the loving embrace of a mother she could barely remember. 

A shadow appeared from behind a pillar, blocking the moonlight. Its large breadth should have frightened her, its imposing height should have made her flee, but instead she smiled, her tune fading into silence.

The man, the soldier of Sparta she came to see, could well have been a demi-god, born of Zeus and any one of the maidens that lustful god had bed. Tall, broad, strong arms and chest bare to the world, his equally impressive calves and thighs displayed beneath the short skirt of his _chiton,_ ensconced by traditional Spartan sandals. A broadsword was strapped to his back, secured by a leather belt slung tight over his chest. The moon’s rays sunk into his dark hair without reflection, lost to the ebony locks as if dragged into the deep by Scylla in her strait. As she approached, he raised a hand and loosened the belt, taking hold of the sword to lay it against the temple wall. 

She did not waver in her steps, coming to a stop seconds later, mere inches from him. Her eyes rose to his; dark and gleaming as the night sky, hiding ages of wisdom, she could easily - gladly - lose herself in them. Her hands passed over the pale expanse of his broad chest, taking time to brush her hands over every inch, pride reddening her cheeks at how his muscles rippled in response to her touch. 

“Kyrillos,” she murmured. “The name you chose is fitting. You are Apollo on Earth.” 

Her lover’s fingers squeezed her waist as he drew her into his chest. “High praise from a daughter of Oceanus.”

“Aethra might be my name, but I am not worthy of it.” No longer able to resist, she pressed her mouth to the center of his chest, causing the man before her to hiss quietly. “I like what _you_ call me.”

“Rey,” he breathed. One hand rose to rest on the back of her head, his fingers curling into her braided hair as she continued to kiss her way across his chest. “My sun.” His hand tightened against her scalp at the base of her braid but he was all gentleness as he pulled her head back. “The one who lights my way.”

Then he brought her lips to his in a soft, sweet kiss that pulled at Rey’s heart like the strings of a harp. Only four months had he and his legion been station on the remote island of Jakku, but in those weeks he had become everything to her. Perhaps because she possessed nothing, perhaps because they were fated by the gods, perhaps because she’d been walking alone, half alive her entire existence, and he made her feel _whole_. 

“Kylo.” Rey whispered the shortened version of his name against his full mouth. She allowed a hint of mischief to fall into her voice. “Is a kiss all you have for me this night?”

A low rumble echoed through his chest that might have been laughter or a growl, Rey was sure which; nonetheless, Rey was pulled into the temple, to a small room opposite Aphrodite’s statue inhabited by a mountain of red and purple cushions. The room was their meeting place; the temple was rarely visited, the inhabitants of Jakku preferring to forget the mercy of the goddess in favor of living wanton lives for Dionysus. Rey thought she might be the only person who bothered to come, until Kylo arrived on the island. It was there she had met him, making an offering to the goddess. 

Then the temple truly became a sanctuary for the slave girl and the Spartan. 

No sooner had they entered their hideaway than he was upon her, tugging at the rope which secured her _peplos_ and breaking it in his haste. He made no apology, not that Rey needed or wanted one. She much preferred the way his mouth viciously took hers as he pulled the dress down her shoulders and freed her from its clutches. The linen, having no support now, pooled at her feet, allowing the moon to bathe her naked body. 

Kylo’s hands wandered over her, leaving trails of fire where his fingers pressed into her cool skin. Heat pooled in her core, as magma bubbled beneath the surface, and she idly wondered if he really was Apollo and she his latest conquest. 

Yet she would love him anyway, even if he left her on a chariot for Mount Olympus that very second. 

Perhaps not that _very_ second. Not as he put his lips to work first on one breast then the other. 

With one swift, practiced movement Rey removed his _chiton,_ the wool fabric joining her dress on the floor. As his mouth explored her shoulder and his hands kneaded her ass, Rey reached for his member and was gratified to find he was more than ready for her. Straining, if the way he thrust into her hand and his teeth dug into the flesh of her shoulder was any indication.

Together, she and Kylo knelt to the bed of cushions on the floor, which had hosted them many times before, and reclined. Rey gasped when his thick fingers slid between her folds, pumping and preparing her gently - though he was often gentle, there was something different this night; he was slow, as if savoring her. 

No. 

_Memorizing_ her.

Before Rey could ask, Kylo claimed her mouth again and his fingers - two, still not an equal to his girth - moved faster, drawing sighs and moans from her throat and leading her to move her hips in time to his tempo. At just the right moment, just when she needed him, his thumb put the exact right amount of pressure on that secret bundle of nerves women possess and Rey broke from his mouth to cry out. She did not hide her pleasure; only Aphrodite and the man she loved would hear her. 

Only when her inner walls stopped fluttering did he remove his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking her juices off them as if it was from the sweetest fruit. Rey whimpered and drew him back down to her, ramming her lips against his and receiving a taste of herself. 

Just as she wanted, he did not hesitate to enter her, one stroke enough to sheathe himself inside her completely. Rey’s head dropped back at the sensation of being so _full_ , which allowed him better access to her neck, an opportunity he did not squander. 

“My love, my sweetheart,” he whispered between caresses. “I’ve never known another like you.”

She couldn’t speak, words abandoning her entirely as he moved, at first slow and sweet, as he had with his fingers. But she needed him too much, she needed _more,_ urgency growing inside her for an unknown reason. Rey wrapped her arms around his neck and dug her heels into his firm ass. 

“Faster, my love, _please_ ,” she whispered. Kylo groaned and his forehead dropped to her shoulder as he obeyed, driving himself into her, causing ripples of pleasure throughout her body and building her up, up toward another climax. Their sweat mingled together as did the chorus of their cries, echoing unashamed throughout the temple in their mutual chase of ecstasy. 

Not a second after she tumbled over that precipice with his name bursting from her lips, he followed with a shout and a mantra of her name repeated over and over, his face hidden in the crook of her neck. 

They remained entangled together as they recovered. Rey stroked her fingers through his hair and he whispered heavenly things into her ear. Before long he removed himself from her to lay beside her, pulling her to him. He rarely allowed her to move far from his side, though he needn’t have worried; she had every intention of being as close to him as possible. 

Yet, again, she sensed something different in the way he held her. It was tight, as always, but more so than usual. As if he were afraid to let her go. 

“Kylo, my love.” Rey mumbled into his chest. “What’s wrong?”

A heavy breath and even heavier answer met her ears. “I am to leave in a week. My legion is moving on.”

Absolute and utter despair filled her soul where once all had been light and happiness. She shrank away from him, to see his gaze, praying that he was teasing. But the grief in his beautiful eyes could not be misunderstood.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, one hand rising to brush away the tears already falling down her flushed cheeks. “I’ll be gone before our next meeting.”

For a moment she could not answer. She could not think of anything except that she would be alone again. There could be no guarantee he would return or that they would see each other again. She could not leave with him or a price would be put on her head by her master and Kylo would be forced by his commander to return her or risk his own life. 

A sob bubbled out of her throat before she could stop it and Kylo kissed her, hard and desperate, allowing her to feel his own torment at their inescapable separation. 

“Please, don’t weep,” he begged, dotting kisses over her cheeks and forehead and jaw. “Don’t weep for me.”

Rey took a few deep breaths to compose herself and forced her eyes up to meet his gaze once more. Oh, how she would miss those eyes. She brought both hands to his cheeks, cradling them, framing his face. Now she understood why he had acted so strangely that night. 

“I will weep,” she told him, her voice shaking. “Let me have that. Allow me to feel this pain.”

His jaw moved and clenched. “I will do what I can - fight the gods themselves if I must - to return here and free you so that we can be together. I swear it. Ours is not a tragic love. We are meant to be together.”

Oh, her brave, good Spartan. Her wonderful, idealistic Kyrillos. 

“I hope you’re right.” Rey whispered. “I know you will try…”

All the same, heavier tears fell, because she also knew the effort would be fruitless. So did he, she knew, deep down. Again he kissed the tears away, though her cheeks remained wet, and she realized it wasn’t with her tears, but his own. 

“Kyrillos,” Rey whispered as she fought back another wave of grief. “Let’s not squander this night. If this is our last meeting, let it be one to remember.”

****

As the first, pink light of dawn edged into the little room in Aphrodite’s temple, Rey was embraced by Kyrillos once more in their final goodbye. She held to him tightly, eyes closed against the deep, hollow ache in her chest. Clothed again, they stood at the edge of the room before they parted, Rey to her master’s house, Kylo to his commander and, soon, even further away. 

“I will meet you here, in the temple,” he murmured into her hair. “When I return. On our day, at our time.”

Too soon he broke away, though she could tell every step he took was as if his feet were made of stone. Each inch traveled was another crack in Rey’s heart, until, when he rounded the corner of the temple with one final, mournful look, it shattered into a thousand pieces. 


	2. Part II

Rey returned dutifully to the temple every week, awaiting her lover’s return. And the arrival of another, for Kylo had indeed left her with more than a kiss that night. Rey carried his child inside her, and with each visit they grew, swelling her belly with their life. Unexpected, but not unwelcome or unwanted, Rey was grateful. For if the gods decided she and Kylo would never see each other again, she would always have a part of him with her. 

But the path ahead would not be easy, and fate liked to deal cruel hands. 

There was a need to hide her pregnancy for as long as possible from Unkar, her master, not knowing what his reaction might be. She had reason for the concern, for when her condition became impossible to hide, Unkar sold her off to a visiting merchant ship, wanting nothing to do with a pregnant slave. 

Rey begged Unkar to let her stay and when that failed she pleaded with him to give Kylo a message should he return, but the man refused. She was taken to the ship without ceremony and without a chance to leave a note or clue to her whereabouts at the temple. 

The merchant was not cruel but he intended on selling Rey at his next stop, and for a higher price because he had the idea she was worth more because of her pregnancy.Two slaves for the price of one. 

Rey despaired. She would be sent off to gods knew where, further away from Jakku and any hope of Kylo finding her. 

The ship landed on the island of Euboea, a place with a thriving slave market. She was taken there, near the end of her pregnancy, and resigned to a dark future. 

To her surprise, the gods were not totally against her. 

The person who bought her from the merchant was a tiny, wizened old woman with large eyes and a mischievous smile. Maz, she called herself. She didn’t say much after purchasing Rey, not until they reached her ship in the harbor. Then, she turned to Rey and pulled off the brass armband denoting her status as a slave. 

“I don’t buy slaves to own, my dear,” Maz said with a huff at Rey’s confused expression and tossed the armband into the ocean. “You’re free now. You and the babe. Free to go back home. And don’t worry about passage; I’ll take care of it.”

Free? Home? Rey burst into tears, overwhelmed and frightened more than she was happy. Where was she supposed to go? Not back to Jakku; after the merchant ship had arrived at Euboea, they found out that Jakku had been destroyed by pirates. It was a heap of ash. Should Kylo return there, he would assume Rey was dead and stop his search. She was alone. The baby stirred inside her, as if able to read their mother’s distress, and Rey placed her hands protectively around them. 

“Oh, sh, sh.” Maz placed a comforting hand on Rey’s arm. “Don’t fret. Have you nowhere to go?”

Rey shook her head, her eyes cast to the ground. What was she to do?

“Well, then. You’ll just have to come live with me.” 

“What?” Rey’s eyes shot up. The old woman’s face was alight with determination. “I… I can’t… you’ve already done more….”  


“Bah,” Maz waved a hand. “I’ve done the decent thing. Now I can do more. I have an inn and I’m getting too old to run it. I think you’re up to the challenge, eh?” her amber eyes twinkled. 

Fearing the chance would slip from her grasp, that she was perhaps dreaming, Rey immediately agreed. Maz was no liar, Rey could tell. She would be paid and have a home of her own as a free woman. 

It would be a good life. 

****

Maz lived on an island called Takodana, in an eponymous fishing hub and way station for pilgrims to Athens. There, Rey gave birth to her son. She named him Agapios, because he was the manifestation of her greatest love. Her only love. A gift Kylo would never know he gave her. 

A year passed. Then two. And three. Maz became like a mother to Rey and a grandmother to Agapios, doting on the boy and spoiling him entirely. And she was not hyperbolic when she told Rey she needed someone to take over the inn. After recovering from giving birth, Rey found herself the sole manager of the busy place. The trust Maz had in Rey was not taken lightly. She worked hard to maintain and grow the inn. Indeed, every year seemed busier than the last. Takodana was thriving. 

One warm, summer’s evening a few days before Agapios’ third birthday, a successful venture brought the entire fishing fleet into dock, hulls loaded with fish and squid. The inn was filled to the brim as the crews came in to celebrate Poseidon’s good favor. Wine flowed and the sailors loudly sang their fortune, the noise ringing throughout the village. Rey called for everyone who worked at the inn to come in that night. 

The victorious attitude was infectious and Rey found herself smiling and laughing at a few of the more boisterous guests. Before an hour passed her _amphora_ needed to be refilled. She returned to the kitchen to do so, the space jarringly quiet compared to the main room, but a welcome respite. When she turned to rejoin the festivities with a full _amphora_ , she found the doorway blocked by a tall figure dressed in traveling clothes. The waning light from the other room cast him in shadow and she couldn’t make out his face. 

“Is there something I can do for you?” She asked cheerfully. “I apologize for the noise, the fishermen had a success-”

The stranger stepped forward, into the kitchen and full view, and Rey’s words died on her tongue. Clay shattered and wine pooled at her feet when she dropped the _amphora_ in shock. 

“Kyrillos.” She gasped. “Kylo…”

There he stood, black _chiton_ covered in dust and grime, skin darker from long periods in the sun, and bearing a jagged scar that ran from above his right eye and down his neck. But assuredly, it was him. A shuddering, relieved, hysterical sob broke from her throat and the next instant she was in his arms. 

“Rey, my Rey,” he whispered tightening his hold around her and pressing kisses all over her face. “I found you.”

“You found me.” Rey breathed, raising her eyes to his and happily drowning in the adoration she saw there. “How? I had lost hope…”

Kylo smiled, his hands rising to cup her wet cheeks. “I told you,” he whispered. “We are fated.” And he kissed her, gentle and slow. In some ways it was better than the first kiss they ever shared, given after so long a time parted. Rey continued to cry and he stopped to kiss away her tears, as he had years before at their goodbye. “Please don’t cry,” he whispered and she heard the hint of a smile in his voice. “I won’t let you cry this time.”

Then he kissed her again, with more heat, more longing, and Rey groaned, need pooling between her legs. Three years. Three long, lonely years since she’d felt his mouth against hers, his hands on her body. 

To Rey’s delight, even though so much time had passed, Kylo could still read her, body and soul. A low growl rumbled through his chest and Rey was hauled up and set down on the sturdy wooden table in the center of the kitchen - at that time covered in goblets, which were pushed off with a clatter by her sudden presence. Kylo stepped between her thighs and she became aware of his length, hard and straining for her. His glorious, full mouth trailed hot, wet kisses down her neck, remembering well the path she liked best. Rey writhed against him, drawing him closer by wrapping her legs around his hips, her _peplos_ riding up her thighs in a wanton fashion. 

By some miracle no one else came into the kitchen, but a loud cheer outside drew Rey from her lust-induced stupor and she remembered all that needed to be said, what he needed to know. 

“Kylo,” she whispered, trying to speak through the pleasure. “W-wait… I… I have… I have to tell you…”

“Later,” he cut in before sucking a mark into her shoulder. “We have other matters to attend to.”

“No, this can’t wait.” Rey shook her head and pushed at his shoulders, and that succeeded in making him pause and draw back. A look of deep concern furrowed his brow. 

“What is it? If this is about your freedom, I have the _drachmae._ I can free you now. There’s no cause to worry…”

Rey shook her head again. “I’m already free. When Maz… well, when we came here, she freed us.”

“That’s… _‘us’_?” Kylo stiffened, his hands tightening where they gripped her waist. “Are…” he swallowed and pain darkened his gaze. “Are you married?” 

“No!” Rey laughed and planted her palms on his cheeks, gently caressing the scar on the one with her thumb. “You are the only man I will ever have. It’s not that, my love. Come.” She hopped off the table, straightened out her _peplos,_ and took his hand in hers. “I have a wonderful surprise for you.”

As bewildered as she knew he was, Kylo followed her outside the inn, toward the small garden in the back Maz liked to spend her semi-retired mornings in. Often in the evenings, such as this one, Maz would take little Agapios there to play while Rey worked. That was where they were now, spending the last few minutes of sunlight beside the fountain in the center. Agapios was doing his best to get _into_ the fountain, toddling this way and that as Maz chased him, laughing. 

Rey stopped some distance away, close enough to see the pair, but not enough that she and Kylo would be noticed right away. She looked to him but he only seemed confused. Of course he would be.

“Who are they?” he asked. 

“The old woman is Maz, who owns this place. She bought us, freed us, and gave us a home.” 

“I must thank her. And the child?”

“His name is Agapios.” Rey locked her eyes on Kylo. “He is your son, Kyrillos.”

She watched his eyes latch on to the little boy, whose wild dark hair was identical to Kylo’s own. His chest rose and fell so quickly Rey feared for a moment he would faint or fall. 

“My… _my_ son?”

Rey squeezed his hand. “Yours, my love. Ours.”

When he finally dragged his gaze to Rey, she was struck dumb by his expression. To say he was overjoyed did him no justice. He seemed to be in _awe_. Indeed, he knelt before her, taking both her hands in his and staring at her with tear-filled eyes. 

“Tell me I’m not dreaming,” he begged. “Promise me I’m not being tricked by some evil god!”

“You’re not dreaming anymore than I am.” Rey answered, her voice thick with unshed tears. “I am not a figment, and neither is our son. I have told him of you every night, even as he grew inside me. I told him you would come for us though I had lost my own faith. But now you have.” She pulled him to his feet. “I will never doubt you again.”

“I will never leave you again,” Kylo promised. “Either of you. Nor our future children.”

Pure, light happiness consumed Rey’s soul and she smiled. “I know.”

She led him to the garden and Kylo met his son. Agapios was shy, at first, but with encouragement from Maz and Rey, soon he ran to his father, who swept the child upinto his arms. Both laughed in delight, Kylo through tears. He drew Rey into the embrace and she gladly wrapped her arms around his waist, happier than she thought she’d ever be. Having more than she ever dreamed she’d have. 

Fate had been kind after all. 


End file.
